Fisherman's Daughter: "The Hardest Thing Is Letting Go of What You Thought Was Real"

He could see he was leading into a changing landscape now, one more rocky and mountainous, mutating by the minute in colors and shadows with the declinivation of the late afternoon sun. He smiled at the penumbra cast by the movement of his own vehicle, its morphing dance across the desert floor. The pipe organ cactus paid headless homage, and saluted him as he passed, perhaps in pendent of his motility....,The ultimate rootless wanderer.